It has been awhile since I had a good poop story, and even longer since I've had a good poop. Well this poop incident moved me (as well as Andrew's bowels) enough to make me want to share it with you. But I will advise that if you are at all adverse to graphic stories about feces, please scroll down to the end of this entry where you can entertain yourself with a picture of a kitten.
This morning, I was surprisingly on time with everything, and it seemed for once I was going to get to work a little early. I grabbed the lunch bags, my tote bag, and told the kids it was time to go to school. But then I glanced at Andrew grabbing on to the coffee table with a worried look. This meant one of two things: he again glued his hands to the coffee table, or he needed to poop.
"I have to poop," grimaced Andrew.
"Then let's go to the potty!" I exclaimed.
Andrew corrected himself. "I pooped."
So I grabbed Andrew and rushed upstairs to change his clothes. As I put him on the changing table and pulled down his pants, Andrew's brow was still furrowed. I wondered why. And as I pulled down his pants, I realized why: he had a humongous poop sticking out from his ass.
As my eyes widened, his poop looked like a well-tanned turtle's head sticking out of an ass. I just stared at this monstrosity and hoped it wasn't going to engulf me like a black hole.
"It hurts!' screamed Andrew.
"No kidding!" I agreed.
As I grabbed some baby wipes and attempted to decapitate the turtle's head, Andrew began to kick his legs. Suddenly this third leg made out of crap began to swing and swatted my hand over and over again. I was not as horrified as I thought I would be having turd smears on my hand, but I suppose that's what shock does to you.
"My bottom hurts!" complained Andrew.
I tried to comfort Andrew and assure him that it would all be over with soon enough. I grabbed a baby wipe and contemplated the best way to detach this inflated Baby Ruth bar. I decided to give it a gentle twist. But as I twisted, the poop broke in half.
"It still there!" shouted Andrew.
"No kidding!" I repeated.
After one final look, I decided to gently pull it off as if I was pulling the stem off a cherry. Boy...did I wish this was actually a cherry. With a brief, but assertive pull, the troubling turd came off. I cleaned Andrew off with a couple more of baby wipes and got him dressed. As for my hand, I stuck it in a tub of Clorox for fifteen minutes.
By this time, there was no way I was going to get to work on time. Thankfully, my television production job doesn't dictate me to be at work at a specific time, but I still ended up arriving a little later than I wanted to. I figured if any one asked why I was late, I would just be totally honest with them and tell them, "It was a crappy morning."